


You Haven't Lost Me

by FeelingFredly



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Fullbringer Arc, Pre-Relationship, Yakuza!Ichigo, bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelingFredly/pseuds/FeelingFredly
Summary: Bingo Square #40--You Haven't Lost MeIchigo has moved on.  It doesn't matter if his Shinigami powers are gone--he's a weapon, and there was always a market for that skill set. Currently that skill set was being tasked to collect the oyabun's past due tribute from a troublesome shopkeeper.Troublesome shopkeeper.  No...  it couldn't be.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 245
Collections: UraIchi Prompt Challenge #4





	You Haven't Lost Me

“I wondered how long it would take.”

The room was dark, the only light a bare bulb hanging over what should have been a shop counter. Ichigo looked around, confused. That voice was too familiar.

“Kisuke?”

Part of the shadow moved, the sound of wooden sandals quiet on the floor, and Ichigo braced himself for an ambush, but nothing further moved.

“So, you do remember me?” the words were teasing, but the tone was anything but. Ichigo let out a frustrated huff.

“Stop playing games, Kisuke. Or at least turn on the lights.”

The bare bulb remained the only beacon in the store.

“I think I like it better this way. You should, too, if your recent activities are anything to go by. You seem to have developed a taste for skulking in the dark.”

Ichigo couldn’t stop the bitter laugh. “Like the shadows ever bothered you.”

Kisuke moved into the puddle of light. Same green samue. Same geta. Same fucking hat. Almost two years and he hadn’t changed a bit. Seeing him didn’t feel the same, though. This wasn’t the teenaged pining he forced himself to move on from. This felt like a punch in the gut.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Why are _you_ here?” Kisuke leaned against the counter, long legs stretched out in front of him, one hand open in inquiry.

“Ignoring the fact that I asked first,” Ichigo said, hating the ease that he fell into their banter, “I’m here to impress upon the owner of this fine establishment the need to keep his insurance payments up to date.”

“Well, then,” the hand dropped and Ichigo could almost sense the tensing of muscles, “ _impress me_.”

The low throaty purr sent a shiver through Ichigo that he would deny until his dying day.

 _Typical Kisuke move._ Ichigo thought angrily, trying to ignore the flush rising on his cheeks _. Unbalance and distract. It’s not as if it means anything. He’s just playing me, like always._

“I don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “I’m just hear for the money you owe, assuming that you do actually own this place.”

Kisuke sighed. “I do actually own this place, but it isn’t that easy, Kurosaki-kun.”

He rolled a muscular shoulder. “Yes. It is. I don’t have any other business with you anymore. You, of all people, should be happy about that.”

Something shifted in the other man—anger? Surprise? Hurt?—but Ichigo ignored it. Trying to read Kisuke was like trying to saddle a duck.

“So, you’re going to what? Break my fingers if I don’t pay up?” Kisuke pushed the brim of his hat up a fraction and looked at him, his gray eyes searching for something. “That’s a far cry from the Kurosaki Ichigo I used to know.

Ichigo shrugged, refusing to let the blond shame him. If he’d actually cared, it wouldn’t have taken him almost two years to intervene. “I’m not the Kurosaki Ichigo you used to know. Nowadays my reputation is enough to make people fall in line pretty quickly.”

“And if it isn’t?” Kisuke’s bland tone raked his nerves like broken glass. “What then?”

Ichigo smirked. “You sound almost hopeful, Kisuke. Things too boring back at the shoten? Looking for a little stranger danger to spice up your love life?”

Kisuke shook his head and an almost-smile twisted his lips. “If it was a piece of strange I was looking for, _Ichigo,_ I wouldn’t have brought you here.”

The flush on his cheeks darkened. “You didn’t _bring_ me anywhere, old man. I just happened get the call to deal with some asshole that’s been causing trouble. Forgive me if after all this time, when I heard _asshole_ I didn’t automatically assume it was you. If I had, I would’ve passed on the job.”

“Why, if you think I’m such an asshole? Wouldn't I deserve it?”

Ichigo glared at him. “Let’s just say that you’re not the only one that wants to forget the past.”

Kisuke let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t want to forget the past, Ichigo. I never have.”

“You could have fooled me. How long has it been since we spoke, Kisuke?” He couldn’t stop the words once they started, the wound that’d been left by his abandonment finally open and oozing vitriol. “Seventeen months. I haven’t spoken to anyone from Seireitei, or the shoten, or the warehouse for _seventeen months_. I started picking up work for the oyabun more than a year ago. Isshin knew. He didn’t even look at the bruises and broken fingers sideways when I’d come in to get them fixed up.”

A frown creased Kisuke’s face. “Isshin knew? And he didn’t put a stop to it?”

Ichigo laughed, “Put a stop to it? He encouraged it. Told me I needed to find an outlet for all the anger and a replacement for the adrenaline dump of fighting hollows. He knew—better than I did—that adjusting wasn’t really an option. This job was like replacing one addiction with another. Yakuza… Shinigami… didn’t matter who needed a weapon. I was one and I needed to be needed.”

Kisuke stood, his back stiff, his jaw tight. “Your father told me that you were fine.”

“Fine?” The word cracked. “How could I be fine, Kisuke? I lost two-thirds of my soul. My friends. The job that defined me.” _You_ , he almost said. The admission seared his soul, the words said out loud for the first time. “I lost _everything_.”

Kisuke crossed the space between them and raised his hand, fingers just shy of touching Ichigo’s cheek.

“You didn’t lose me.” He dragged one fingertip along the curve of Ichigo's face, gray eyes fierce. “You _haven’t_ lost me.”

He let out a choked laugh. “Haven’t I? Then why is the first time I’m seeing you on a run for the oyabun?” 

Kisuke let his hand drop. “Oh, Ichigo. I had to send six different enforcers to the hospital before they sent you. Your oyabun knows me. He knew I considered you under my protection from the time you entered high school. I was most unhappy when I found out that he’d swooped in and taken advantage of you when you were vulnerable, but it was already done, and I couldn’t figure out how to undo it without your cooperation. To get your cooperation, I had to actually talk to you. So, I sat here and refused to pay the tribute demanded for four months. The first month I just got a warning, but after that I received regular visits from his strong men. I didn’t actually think he’d send you, but I had to keep trying. And finally... here you are.”

Ichigo frowned. “What do you—”

Kisuke cut him off. “Your father has been sending me updates about your situation. Mostly half-truths, apparently. He told me you’d made new friends. Had an active social life. He didn’t tell me they were gang members or that your ‘social life’ was actually time spent as an enforcer.” He shook his head. “He and I will be… _revisiting_ this. Soon.”

The blond leaned back against the counter again. “I know it’s my fault for just accepting things at face value, but I’ve been focused on a project and I forget sometimes,” he looked at Ichigo intently, “I’m almost three hundred years old, and I forget how time feels when you’re human. A year flies by so fast that I barely notice, but you… it was too long, and I am sorry. I never wanted you to feel abandoned.”

Ichigo’s mind was racing. “So, you and my dad? You asked about me?” He didn’t want to sound too hopeful.

“Isshin wasn’t thrilled about it, I can assure you.” Kisuke laughed under his breath. “I can’t tell you how many healing sessions I went through with Tessai-san. Your father still has a wicked right-cross.”

That much was true. Ichigo had learned to counter it early on. The fact that Tessai had had to heal Kisuke meant the blond had actually let his father land a few. The fact that he _let_ him meant that Kisuke was still feeling guilty, and if he was still feeling guilty, it meant he was still thinking about him. Worrying about him.

He hadn’t been forgotten.

“So,” Kisuke walked to the end of the counter and grabbed a brown paper bag that was sitting there, “your job tonight was to come and collect on a debt owed to your oyabun. Here.” He slid the bag down the counter and Ichigo grabbed it. “This should cover everything plus a little for the trouble I’ve put him through.”

Ichigo opened the bag to see a pile of new ¥10,000 notes. That should calm the waters. “Easy enough. Shall I tell him there will be no more trouble?”

Kisuke nodded. “This building has served its purpose. Now that I’ve gotten to see you—in your natural habitat, as it were—I will probably sell it. Let the oyabun make his deals with the new owners, whoever they may be.”

Ichigo’s mouth dropped open. “You bought a building and made yourself a target of the oyabun just to see me?”

Kisuke looked at him and smiled a little fondly. “Of course I did. Once I realized that things weren’t what I’d been led to believe, what else was I to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Ichigo shook his head in disbelief. “Pick up a phone and call me? I know you have one.”

“And, would you have answered it?” Kisuke asked pointedly. “Or would you have blocked my number and cursed my name?”

Well, that was fair.

“I know I can’t change the past, Kurosaki-kun…”

“Ichigo.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow.

“You called me Ichigo earlier,” the redhead forced himself to keep eye contact, even knowing that his cheeks were glowing pink in the darkness. “I think you should keep doing it.”

The little smile that flitted across Kisuke’s face was a cross between relieved and pleased. It made Ichigo’s heart skip a little.

“I think I can do that.” The blond dipped the brim of his hat back over his eyes. “ _Ichigo_.”


End file.
